Brothers and Fathers
by Lorewen
Summary: In a time of grief and loss, a brother makes a solemn promise. Nearly two ages later, in another time of grief and loss, a father fulfills that promise.
1. Brothers

I only own Sakalthor and Zamin.

Quenya translations are at the end of the chapter.

 **Year 442 of the Second Age - Armenelos**

The sentry shook his head sadly. "I am sorry, my lady, but you cannot see Tar-Minyatur just now. He has given orders not to admit visitors today."

"He must intervene," the woman insisted for the fourth time. "Vardamir intends to pass the throne of Numenor to Amandil instead of ruling us himself. The situation is intolerable!"

"Lady Zamin, it is no longer Tar-Minyatur's responsibility to interfere in intolerable situations. He has abdicated the throne, leaving it in Vardamir's hands to do what he will with it."

"I shall report you to the captain of the guard if you do not let me speak to the king!"

"Please do," the sentry retorted, his patience finally giving out after a very long day. "I am sure he will be pleased to hear that I have obeyed my orders regardless of you and everyone else."

With a huff, Zamin turned on her heel and strode furiously away. The sentry sighed and rubbed his face wearily. Part of him longed to be back in the barracks with his comrades, away from the likes of Lady Zamin and the others he had been forced to turn away, yet he had specifically requested to be assigned sentry at Tar-Minyatur's door today. He could not bear to be anywhere else on what was very likely his beloved master's last day of life.

"How is he, Sakalthor?"

The sentry jerked his hand away from his face, startled by the quiet voice so near his post. A cloaked figure stood before him, having approached as silently as Tar-Minyatur himself might have done. Then the figure removed his hood, and Sakalthor relaxed as he recognized the noble face, so like his master's save for its youthfulness and the dark Eldarin braids that framed it.

"Oh, it's you, Lord Elrond."

"How is the king?"

"He-is not king anymore," Sakalthor replied slowly. "He abdicated yesterday morning. Last evening, he met with all his family and friends, and some of the women were weeping when they left him. He has not said anything about it to me, but I fear that he is only waiting for you."

The Elda frowned heavily and moved toward the door as the sentry opened it for him.

"Sakalthor, I thought I said not to disturb me today," a hoarse voice called from inside the room.

The sentry opened his mouth to speak, but Elrond cut him off. "Surely that order does not apply to me, brother?"

"Elrond! _Eruhantale_!" Minyatur exclaimed joyfully. Just then, a violent fit of coughing took him. Elrond stepped quickly into the room and shut the door. Worried about Minyatur, but glad that Lord Elrond was there at last, Sakalthor went back to pacing the corridor, waiting for someone else to demand entrance to the room.

The old king felt rather than saw his brother reach his side and drop to his knees alongside the bed where he sat propped up against several pillows. Murmuring soothingly in their childhood language, Elrond rubbed his back and chest, the healing power of his hands calming the tortured lungs until the coughing finally stopped.

"Thank you."

Elrond winced visibly at the hoarse sound of the aging voice. "Anytime, dear Elros. Now, what is this I hear about you giving up your kingship?"

Elros smiled faintly. "I knew you would not like it, but it cannot be helped. Old age has finally caught up with me, brother."

"Nonsense! You are the same age as I am. Why, we are not yet halfway through our third _yen_!"

He shook his head. "We mortals do not live long enough to measure our lives in _yeni_. I am five hundred years old, and even my children are much older than any others of my people. Look at me, Elrond. I cannot live much longer. It is time for us to say goodbye."

"Elros, brother, I do not want to lose you!"

"We made this choice long ago. We cannot change it now. I must accept the Gift of Men, and you must carry on without me."

"Carry on with what? You are my twin, my heart's-brother, my comrade. Even when the seas have divided us, we have not let our spirits be apart. What do I have to live for without you?"

"I will not hear such talk from you." In spite of the pain in his throat and lungs, Elros managed to sound stern. "You have much to live for, and many people who love you. Serve King Gil-galad; beautify Imladris; strengthen your friendships with Celeborn, Oropher, Cirdan, and Amdir." He hesitated. "Before long, I think, you will also be kept busy combating a shadow of darkness."

This prediction seemed to startle Elrond out of his grief. "What darkness? Morgoth has been destroyed."

"Not all of his followers fell with him, and some of them were very formidable in their own right. I do not know any details, dear brother, but you know that my foresight, when it comes, is very rarely wrong."

His twin nodded.

"Elrond, I have a favor to ask you."

"Anything, Elros."

"You will live to see many generations of my heirs. I ask that you keep an eye on them for me until you depart into the West. I do not mean that you should live in Numenor. I know that your heart lies in Middle-earth, and I do not think my people would take kindly to too much Eldarin interference in their lives, even from a relative. But even from afar you can perhaps help them out once in awhile. When troubles come to them, I want to know that they have a true friend in my brother. Can I count on you for that?"

Elrond put his hand on his brother's shoulder and gazed into his eyes. "If you have ever counted on me for anything, you can depend on-" Suddenly he stopped talking and his eyes glazed over. Even as his body remained kneeling beside his brother's bed, his spirit seemed to be far away. Recognizing that Elrond was seeing a vision of the future, Elros waited silently for him to return. After a long moment, the glazed expression left Elrond's eyes, and he bowed his head sadly.

"What is it?" Elros asked. "What did you see?"

"A time will come when your children will reject my friendship and help. They will want nothing to do with the immortals, because they will resent your decision not to include yourself-and therefore them-in our number."

At this, Elros dropped his face into his hands and groaned deeply, which triggered another fit of coughing. When it was over, Elrond took both his brother's hands in his and held his gaze. He spoke slowly and his voice trembled, but he did not look away.

"Even in those dark days, there will be a faithful remnant of your descendants who will respect your choice and continue to value their friendship with the immortals. As for me, I know that your heart has always been with the Atani, even as mine has always been with the Eldar. While I regret that we must part, I know that this is no more your choice than it is mine. This grief is caused not by your choice of kindred or mine, but by the difference between them. I can no more blame you for not changing your mind to share my destiny than I can blame myself for not changing to share yours. It was the will of Eru."

Elros let go of Elrond's hands and leaned over to embrace him, ignoring the pain caused by the movement. "I love you, my brother," he whispered. "I cannot express how much I wish we could have agreed!"

At that, Elrond broke down and wept, and their tears mingled on the pillows as they waited for the end of their five hundred years of brotherhood.

 ** _Elda_** **(plural:** ** _Eldar_** **): Elf. Quenya**

 ** _Eldarin_** **: Elvish. Quenya**

 ** _Eruhantale:_** **T** ** _hanks to Eru_** **. Quenya**

 ** _Yen_** **(plural:** ** _yeni_** **): 144 years (The standard measurement of time for the Eldar). Quenya**

 ** _Atan_** **(plural:** ** _Atani_** **): a member of the race of Men. Quenya**


	2. Fathers

I do not own the characters or their situation.

Sindarin translations are at the end of the chapter.

 **Year 2933 of the Third Age - Imladris**

The woman was weeping again, the sound of her grief drifting through the open window. Her sorrow tore at Elrond's heart. How he wished there were something he could say to ease her pain! But how could he possibly comfort a newly widowed mortal woman? He was afraid even to try, lest he say the wrong thing.

Mortals were an enigma to him and always had been. Why, even dear Elros, his own twin brother, had sometimes mystified him completely by acting like an Adan instead of an Edhel.

Women too were very confusing and unpredictable. Though he managed to understand Arwen most of the time now, it had taken nearly a score of _yeni_ as her father to reach that point. Gilraen was almost a stranger. Who knew how the feminine mind worked in her case?

And widowhood-now there was something he understood all too well. When his Celebrian had departed into the West, he had learned enough about widowhood to fully sympathize with the woman now crying in his favorite garden. But it did not help him know what to say to her; rather, his experience told him there was really nothing he could say.

He had thought of _doing_ something instead, not so much to ease her sorrow, since only time could do that, but to ease the more practical cares she must also be bearing. Arathorn had been the provider for the little family, so Elrond had offered to fill that role. He had invited her to place herself and little Aragorn under his care at Imladris, where all their needs could be met. More importantly, this way he could shield them from the growing shadow that threatened to swallow them as it had swallowed Arathorn.

Gilraen had gratefully accepted the invitation, so he supposed he had done all he could for the family of his departed friend. Yet something still nagged at him, as though he had an obligation he had not yet fulfilled.

"Nana?" The baby voice in the garden broke into his thoughts, its sweetness bringing an involuntary smile to his face. "Don't cry. Ada come soon. Make Nana glad!"

Elrond heard a low cry, and looked out the window in time to see Gilraen catch her child up in her arms and bury her face in his dark curly hair.

"No, _tithen pen_. Ada will not come home anymore. It's just you and Nana now."

"Ada come soon!" the child insisted, distressed by his mother's words and grief.

She shook her head wordlessly and held him tighter.

"Me want Ada!" Aragorn scrambled out of his mother's arms and ran across the garden toward the house. His mother called his name, but he ignored her, throwing himself on the ground below the window and bursting into tears.

Elrond froze. Aragorn was out of sight now, but his broken sobs filled the room. Over and over Elrond's mind replayed the image of the distressed child running wildly toward him through the flowerbeds. He caught his breath in recognition as the two-year-old in his mind's eye was replaced by a six-year-old from a much older memory, but with the same dark hair and heartbroken grey eyes. Elros had responded just so when told that their mother would not be coming back from the sea. Even after so many generations, Aragorn's looks and mannerisms clearly declared him to be a child of Elros.

He suddenly remembered how Maglor had been a father to him and his twin after their own parents disappeared. Even though several millennia had passed since Elrond had last seen Maglor or heard from him, and even though he had long ago learned the ugly truth about Maglor's involvement in his parents' disappearance, a part of him continued to love his foster father. Whatever his evil deeds before or even after that, he had filled the desperate need of two very lonely little boys, and Elrond would never forget it.

 _When troubles come to them, I want to know that they have a true friend in my brother. Can I count on you for that?_

"Of course, my brother," Elrond whispered. Then he stood up and leaned out the window. "Aragorn," he called softly. "Will you let me be your new Ada?"

 ** _Adan_** **(plural:** ** _Edain_** **): a member of the race of Men. Sindarin**

 _Edhel_ (plural: _Edhil_ ): Elf. Sindarin

 _Nana:_ Mommy (Literally _Mother_ , but more affectionate). Sindarin

 _Ada:_ Daddy (Literally _Father_ , but more affectionate). Sindarin

 ** _Tithen pen:_** **Little one. Sindarin**


End file.
